Scarburg Meadhall

[Folwren]

Saeryn lay still, taking Modtryth’s advice of moving as little as possible. But it was harder to breathe calmly. At first, she was calm as Modtryth uncovered and inspected the wound, but when Rowenna returned and brought a question from Eodwine, and when Modtryth replied, she could not help the extra beat in her heart. Her eyes opened slowly and then closed again almost at once.

What were these strange thoughts and emotions? She hadn’t come back because she wanted to change her answer and marry him. She told that to herself often. But did Eodwine still want her as wife? Was that what his question had been earlier? She had sensed that before, right as he had asked it, and she had not been able to answer. What if she had had the strength to answer? What then would she have said?

She disliked these thoughts. They were troublesome and confusing. But she knew they had to be faced. Either that, or she must run again.

A groan escaped her lips. She turned her head away from Modtryth to hide the grimace of mental turmoil. She’d done enough running, and she couldn’t run now even if she wanted to.

If she could not face Eodwine and these decisions, why had she come back?

---

Javan

Javan heard voices up ahead. They were young and childish, and quarreling, so they probably belonged to the very people he was searching for. He had to round the tents to come to them, and when he finally came around, no one was there, and all was quiet. He looked back the way he had come, and up between the tents, but the boys were not there.

“H’m,” he thought aloud. “They must be somewhere around here. Cnebba! Garmund! Come on, we’ve got to get to work.”

There was a movement in the tree ahead. He hurried forward and looked up through the leaves. They were both perched on the branch right above his head, and before he could get the first word out of his sentence ‘Garstan’s waiting for us’, they had both jumped, landing right on him.

“‘ere! What’s the meaning of this! Ge’ off me!”

“Don’t let ‘im escape, Dam-Bam!” cried Cnebba.

“Well, you keep your own side under control, and I’ll keep mine!” The boys were grasping at his arms and shoulders, pinning him to the ground. The element of surprise had certainly worked in their favor.

Javan strained to get up, angry at being ambushed like this and pinned by two boys younger than he. He quickly realized he could not escape from Garmund’s grasp - the boy, although three years younger than he, was taller by a head that Javan - so he concentrated his force on his right side, with which Cnebba grappled.

He shook himself loose of Cnebba and twisted about to grab Garmund. With a heave of his body, he rose up, and they rolled over several times on the ground. When they stopped, Javan was on top. He paused, thinking about what he should do, and had decided not to continue fighting and just deliver his message from Garstan and get up and go when Cnebba attacked him from the side, knocking him off Garmund.

“Now, stop!” Javan shouted, his temper snapping. “Quit it! I came to get you two because Garstan wants your help with the tents!”

[littlemanpoet]

If it eases his heart? What if anything would his heart have to do with Lady Saeryn's condition? The moment the question was raised in Rowenna's mind, she knew. She felt a sudden weight drop inside, and she knew its name: dread. This was a noblewoman, wellborn and therefore marriageable to such as Eorl Eodwine. And she was beautiful. Why else would she come back if not to allow herself to be courted?

These thoughts raced through Rowenna's mind as she walked to the tent's entrance to relay Modtryth's message. Such a formidable rival Rowenna knew she could not abide! And here, she had thought to make a friend of her! She would have to give all appearances of friendship, for she would need to have this Saeryn's confidence. That much was certain. It was her only hope. But what to say to the Eorl?

She came to the entrance. He was standing just outside. Her heart raced.

"She is in need of a healer, lord. Is there one here?" Maybe she could suggest that the girl be sent to Edoras for healing. But she kept her tongue in her mouth as to that.

"We have one here," Eodwine replied. "I should have thought of her sooner. Æðel is her name. I will fetch her."

With that, the Eorl was gone on his new errand, and Rowenna had not even needed to pass on the extra tidbit Modtryth had supplied. Ease his heart? Rowenna was determined that she must be the one to ease his heart, and no other.

She returned to Modtryth and Saeryn and smiled as warmly as she knew how.

"Lord Eodwine has gone to fetch the one called Æðel. How are you feeling, Saeryn?"

[Folwren]

“Lord Eodwine has gone to fetch the one called Æðel. How are you feeling, Saeryn?” The voice came from right beside her, but Saeryn did not comprehend for a moment. When she realized that she was being spoken to, her head jerked about and her eyes flew open.

“I am well, I am fine,” she said at first. “No.” She was among friends, she could be honest. “I need to sleep. Please let me sleep.” Rowenna nodded and Saeryn turned her head away again.

Lord Eodwine knew that she was wounded. She had not wanted to worry him. He would be worried enough. Hot tears prickled behind her shut eyelids. Why must she be a burden? Her breath trembled slightly as she drew it, and then it calmed. The tears and remorse and confusion were forgotten as she drifted off into a brief sleep.

[Groin Redbeard]

Erbrand led Dan to the spot where he was watching the intruder. Dan followed silently, giving Erbrand enough time to describe the intruder’s looks and clothing.

“Which way did he go?” Dan asked at length.

“Straight towards the other end of the marsh,” responded Erbrand pointing with his hand in the direction that he saw the man flee. “I’m sure your search will not be in vain, Dan. That man looked awfully curious about our camp, and I don’t think he’s cured of it just yet. My guess is that he’s hiding somewhere amongst the brambles and bushes on the other side.” Dan’s face looked grim and determined, measuring and scoping the landscape in front of them.

“Do you think that you will need further assistance in this matter Dan? I’ll be happy to travel with you until we catch this man, but if you have no need of me I'll not bother you and I’ll go assign myself to joining the hunting party.” Dan stared ahead for a few moments seeming to take no notice of Erbrand, but he didn’t mind. Whatever Dan’s decision would be Erbrand didn’t care; either job would suit him just fine.

[Lhunardawen]

After everyone had broken their fast, Ginna gathered the soiled utensils and brought them back to the makeshift kitchen. She proceeded to help Kara wash them but Frodides called her away.

"No, girl, leave the dishes to Kara. She can do that on her own. I need you to get those repaired."

The cook pointed to a box in the corner of the kitchen, containing utensils which had become bent and broken before and during the move to Scarburg. They had sorted those out the previous day, but could not have them fixed immediately, with everyone busy getting the household all settled in.

"Bring them to the smith and stay with him until they're all fixed. Make sure he does the task right away or tell him from me he won't get any meals served to him until he's done."

Ginna had to smile at another one of Frodides's wonted affectionate threats, but exchanged a worried look with Kara. They both knew Frodides was aware of how things were between Ginna and Harreld, whether or not she overheard the ladies' conversation the day before. Kara was the first to speak.

"I'll do it."

"I need your help preparing the meals, especially now that there are more mouths to feed. And you'll just get your back broken with the weight; at least I know Ginna can carry heavy things, even if I still can't trust her with cooking."

Kara shrugged apologetically, which Ginna acknowledged with a slight nod. She took a glance at Frodides's face. The older woman looked serious enough, and Ginna realised she meant business, but she could not help wondering if Frodides had something up her sleeve. It was certainly like her to disguise her means of getting things done, one way or another. There was nothing for it, however, but for Ginna to do as she was told, so without another word she went out to look for Harreld, with the box of utensils in her arms.

She found him setting up his temporary smithy some distance from the baker, and took her time walking to scrutinise him. He went about his own work without minding the fuss around him, mainly created by the party about to set out to hunt, and Ginna could see by the way he moved almost automatically that he really knew his work. She could not help admiring his industry. But when she saw his slightly knitted brows and the tightness around his mouth she suddenly felt apprehensive. Is he thinking about me?

"Ow!"

Harreld looked around towards her. Ginna cursed silently; she had hit her foot against a particularly large stone. Without looking up she hurried towards the smith and deposited the box before him.

"Frodides wants those repaired, and told me to wait until you're done."

She saw that it was not necessary to add Frodides's threat as Harreld immediately began taking out the utensils, but her mouth longed to voice out other words: Harreld Smith, could you ever forgive me?

Instead she said aloud, "Harreld, can I help you with anything?"

[Thinlómien]

The Orc was whining something. Brave Gong-Bong-Bong didn't listen to it, but kept hitting the creature's side. The mighty orc blocked the blows easily, keeping an eye on Great Dam-Bam-Dam. It didn't even pay proper attention to Gong! Infuriated, the droogy warrior hit, faster than before, and the Orc didn't manage to parry it. It howled in pain and hit back. Gong was so surprised at his own strength that he didn't realise the retaliatory blow was coming until it was too late. There was a flash of pain and he fell to the ground, holding his nose.

"You do not hit him like that!" Dam shouted at the Orc. He towered over the ghastly creature and hit it, aiming at the head. The Orc ducked, a little too late, and received the blow on its forehead. Uttering words in the vile Orcish tongue, it attacked back. Blows were dealt and parried, there were hits and misses. Both the Orc and the droogy hunter were aching, but neither of them was ready to give up.